1. If the red soil has hidden you
And you have become a visitor no visitors frequent

2. Then I grieved over parting with you, after
They thought I was ignorant to patiently bear it

3. So the fire in my sides, kindled by sorrow
And the water from my eyes, drips with sadness

4. How many bright and radiant ones in the soil
With soft hands or shining foreheads

5. And raised above men in majesty
Crowned and garlanded and honoured

6. The stellar nobles wearied seeking glory
And the skilled were exhausted, and the vigorous horses slowed

7. And the people passed away, their fates overtaking them
So some smiled, some frowned, some looked miserable

8. And some met what they never feared would destroy them
While some went early and some went late

9. As if a gust were wrapping them in its wings
The whistling, chirping sparrow

10. And there are places for chanting and bliss
And places where cold north winds howl

11. If there was hope of undying life
It would rescue those daring death and the grave

12. And death's paths would be barred from its doors
As they were barred against Chosroes and Caesar

13. And he whom Nizār bore would have dwelt in invincible protection
With him to guard the mighty fortress

14. But he passed willingly into death's hand
No longer inhabiting castles or walking proudly

15. And when he left his family and guests and visitors
What remained was a deserted place

16. So look and see if you can discern in what is past
And has become dust, anything left

17. And I have lost one group after another
It pleases me to have no group

18. And the visitors to the dove-cotes blamed me regarding
My family and tribe, so they picked and chose

19. One clad in patchwork amid loose tongues
Who never wore such motley clothes

20. Another who dirties his garb with spite
Who never wore such soiled clothes

21. Another, if not for fate's decree, would drip
Stars upon us, who never shone so bright

22. Another the years pierced his heart
That was not wont to such red soil

23. Those who passed were the best of travellers
Of those who stayed, none surpassed the rest

24. Take the fruits of life, which are
No more than a fleeting glimpse

25. Leave off hoarding, which only weighs down
The happy man with loss upon loss

26. Life's shadow on the youth
Is a shadow that deserted him in exile

27. No day of the youth in time is pure white
With red death looming behind

28. And for those you see dwelling comfortably in their castles
These pits are being dug

29. For my father Al-Fatḥ, who hunted glory,
Tears of sorrow flow from my eyelids

30. He was a joyous companion,
Now he gives grave advice

31. If not for our shared origin and Rome
There is the sanctity of manners between us

32. Or if the Arabs bore no relation to you
Those who mastered the language guided you

33. It did not harm one the non-Arabs nursed
Whose upbringing was in Arabic ways

34. Yet we have Arabs of pure descent you see
Blinded to grammatical declension

35. And I feared our friendship torn apart
By stinginess, and what I feared occurred

36. I hoarded you against the days
If only a man could keep what he stores

37. After you I shrugged off those at ease
Too slothful to rival your virtue

38. When I grieve for you, I excuse my sadness
When I complain, no excuse will serve

39. Treachery is the consolation of a friend
After intimacy, but I will not betray

40. I saw you quench the fires of my passion
Which make me pour out what I write

41. So boast of it dead, for how many groups
Lie in a grave they are proud of !

42. Words which the old mimic the young with
As if, rapturously, they never aged

43. You were a paragon for every anthology
Circulated on the lips and tongues of the people

44. Pure without any murkiness marring your clarity
While poetry turns clear and turbid in turns

45. As if amid past sayings you dawned
A moon in the black night shining bright

46. To you every glance of ours turns
And every polished cheek of ours is raised

47. And your Lord gives you the water of every cloud
That approaches as the rain clouds gather and rain

48. And when your enemies avoid you like a roaring flood
The evening rain fills your grave like a torrent

49. As if it and the lightning vie in illumination
A glistening silk in the hands of the winds

50. And when you slip, to Him who
Blots out errors as He wills and pardons